


too long on the borderline

by mrs_nerimon



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1579223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_nerimon/pseuds/mrs_nerimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They haven’t seen each other for nearly five months, he’s supposed to be working undercover, and she’s got soy sauce spilled on her shirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	too long on the borderline

**Author's Note:**

> More for these two. I'm so hopelessly gone. One day soon I'll write fic where they're an actual couple, I promise.  
> Originally posted on tumblr.

Amy breaks up with Teddy on a Friday.

It’s not because of anything he did, or anything she did, and it’s definitely _not_ because of what Peralta said, because she hasn’t been playing that over and over in her head or anything.

She likes Teddy, likes him _a lot_ if she’s being honest with herself. He’d kind and he’s funny and he understands the demands of the job, unlike a lot of guys she’s dated. But it’s hard to see each other frequently, and when they do go out something just feels off. She can’t put her finger on it exactly, but somehow kind and funny and understanding aren’t all she wants.

He’s nice enough about it, and they both agree to try and stay in touch in the future. She doesn’t really see that happening, but that’s the kind of thing you say when you’re both adults and the relationship doesn’t end with one person throwing the other’s stuff out the window.

She doesn’t tell anyone about the break-up, but somehow the entirety of the 99 finds out anyway.

Amy comes into work the Monday after to find half a dozen cupcakes on her desk, each frosted with a delicate and slightly misshapen heart.

Charles _,_ no doubt.

She’s filling out old paperwork when Rosa drops by. She hands her a cup of coffee, awkwardly pats Amy’s shoulder, and leaves without a word.

After lunch Gina waves her over to her desk and invites her out on a girls night, promising that it will include “alcohol, glitter, possibly some strippers, and definitely a pedicure.”

Amy gives her a hard maybe and slinks back to her desk.

They blissfully leave her alone for the rest of the day, with the exception of Holt wishing her a somewhat sincere sounding “good night, Santiago” as she grabs her coat.

Amy knows they mean well, but honestly she doesn’t feel too sad about the situation. She’s always been good after break-ups; when something’s over, she knows it’s over.

At least that’s what she thought. Suddenly it’s quarter of ten and she’s eating Chinese take-out alone on her couch watching a Law and Order rerun, and she realizes that for she feels very, very alone.

Although she and Teddy weren’t able to get together all that much, he had a habit of calling her after she got home from work. They’d discuss whatever cases they’d worked on that day, and sitting alone in her cramped apartment didn’t feel so pathetic.

It’s stupid to get upset when she’s the one who ended things. Maybe she should have thought this out more, instead of jumping into it without considering her options. Maybe she’s royally screwed herself over.

Just as she’s contemplating reaching for her phone and calling him up there’s a knock at the door. She can’t help grabbing her gun as she goes to look through the peep hole, the years of academy training too strictly drilled into her, but she falters as she spots who’s on the other side.

Amy undoes the latches but she only opens the door a fraction, frowning deeply as she finds herself face to face with Jake.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She whispers. Holt demanded they cut off all contact with Jake once he began his undercover mission, so for months all she’s known is that he’s working with the Iannacci’s, and he’s putting himself into some pretty dangerous situations. It’s a bizarre sort of relief to see him standing there, but it’s not enough to override her common sense.

Peralta’s eyes widen and he shifts the large paper bag in his hands, his head just barely poking out from behind it.

“It’s nice to see you too, Santiago.” He mumbles. “Can you let me in? This is kinda heavy.”

She shakes her head quickly. “You definitely can’t be here! You’re not supposed to talk to any of us, and if-“

“Shh, shh! It’s okay, I promise I’m not disobeying any of Holt’s commandments. Let me in.” His head disappears behind the bag and he kicks at the bottom of her door.

Amy relents and steps aside so he can come in. Immediately Jake drops the bag on the floor, and its contents make a rattling noise.

“God, I carried that up six flights of stairs. You know your elevator isn’t working?” He bends over and puts his hands on his knees, chest heaving like he’s out of breath.

She crosses her arms over her chest, squinting at him closely. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

A long moment of silence passes as Jake appears to catch his breath. She’s at a loss for what to say; they haven’t seen each other for nearly five months, he’s supposed to be working undercover, and she’s got soy sauce spilled on her shirt.

“So.” He straightens up finally, smiling widely. “How’ve you been?”

“What are you doing here, Jake?”

His face falls with a sigh. “We finished the case. Technically I’m not supposed to talk about it, but we got all of them.” He leans back against the couch, his hands resting on the old, colorful quilt covering it. She remembers him making fun of her apartment decorations the first time he’d visited, teasing her for her unusual taste in decor. 

He used to be over at least once a month, picking her up or dropping her off or inviting himself over for dinner. It feels odd to have him here now, though.

After a moment Amy realizes he’s probably waiting for a response, so she clears her throat. “That’s good.”

She wishes she could say more, but it’s been _five months_ and here he is, acting like they saw each other yesterday.

Jake nods. “Yeah, well that’s what you get when you mess with Vic Covak.” He winks and she rolls her eyes, trying to fight the smile creeping over her face.

“Anyway, it’s cool for me to talk to you guys again. Boyle called earlier today and he said you and Mr. police-code-good-listener-boyfriend broke up, so….” He trails off and shrugs his shoulders, glancing quickly at the ground. He crouches down and grabs the bag again, lifting it up delicately.

“I probably shouldn’t have thrown this around, but I made you a Break-Up Emergency Kit. NYPD approved.”

_Of course he did._ Five months and he shows up at her door with an odd-ball gift and half an explanation. 

Despite it all, Amy finds herself smiling. “Oh, really?” She leans forward, trying to get a look inside.

Jake reaches in and pulls out a large box of chocolates first, setting beside him on the couch. “For crying, obviously.”

“ _Obviously._ ” She echoes.

Next he takes out a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream, which he’s somehow remembered is her favorite flavor.

“Also for crying.”

Amy chuckles, taking the container as he holds it out.

A stack of DVDs come out next, and he reads each title out loud before dropping them on the couch.

_“Die Hard, Grease, Clueless,_ and two seasons of _CSI: Miami_.” He looks up and smiles at her again, and she tries to ignore the way it makes her stomach flip.

“Trust me, if _CSI_ doesn’t make you feel better, then you’re a lost cause.” Jake ducks his head and rummages around in the bag again, removing a bottle of wine.

“Crying and moving on.” He offers that to her as well and she grabs it, examining the bottle’s label.

“Looks fancy.” She teases, setting it on the dining room table.

He shrugs. “Well, I don’t want to brag, but it was more than 8 bucks.”

The last item is a CD with the words _“For Amy”_ scrawled across the clear plastic case in sloppy handwriting that she’d recognize anywhere.

Jake drops the bag to the floor once more and hands it to her. “It’s 90% Taylor Swift, but don’t judge me. She just gets it, you know?”

Amy can’t help her wide smile as nods, her grip around the plastic edges tightening.

“I love it.” She looks back up at him, her voice earnest. “It’s great. Thank you, Jake.”

He returns her grin. “Yeah, no problem. I, uh… I missed you. All…all of you. Rosa and Charles. And Gina. Even Holt, a little, but you can’t tell him that.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Scouts honor.”

Jake gives her a long look, but surprisingly his gaze feels comfortable. After a minute he shakes his head, reaching down to gather the discarded bag.

“I should get going. This is really a solitary, healing activity.” He starts towards the door, then turns around suddenly.

“See you, Santiago.” He holds out his hand, but in that moment all Amy wants to do is knock it aside and pull him close. She wants to wrap her arms around him and breathe him in, to know he’s okay, he’s here with her again. He’s giving her ridiculous gifts and being _him_.

But she takes it anyway, and the handshake is far too brief.

“Bye, Jake.”

He gives her one last grin and pulls open the door, letting it swing shut behind him with a click.


End file.
